


Well Met(a)

by IamJohnLocked4life



Category: Actor RPF, Sherlock (TV) RPF
Genre: Gaylich, Gen, Gift Fic, Library nerds, RPF, Tumblr, queer gothic lit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:23:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5599573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamJohnLocked4life/pseuds/IamJohnLocked4life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>heimishtheidealhusband meets Ginger Dad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well Met(a)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meretriciovs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meretriciovs/gifts).



Eight rows down, third stack to the right. She knows the library by heart, despite never having attended the university, and this section in particular. Warm hazel eyes peruse the familiar array, titles greeting her like old friends. Bobbing her head to the music blaring through her earbuds, she quickly fills her arms with battered hardcovers, reveling in the slightly musty scent of the old books. She goes through her mental checklist of texts to review for possible citations: _Queer Others in Victorian Gothic; Homospectrality in Henry James’s Ghost Stories; M.R. James: Ghost Writer--oh yes, Queering the Gothic!_ She resumes her search with a bit more purpose. Her fingertips stroke across the spines as she picks her way past _Queer Gothic_ and _Queering Gothic in the Romantic Age_.

 _Ah, there it is!_ She presses up to her tiptoes and reaches for the top shelf, but jumps back with a surprised yelp as freckled fingers brush her own. 

“Shit, sorry! I didn’t know anyone else was down here.” She yanks out her earbuds as she turns. “I didn’t hear--” She stops dead, as her brain finally registers the man before her. Sparkling blue eyes, auburn hair, ginger beard. A trim sport coat over a cashmere sweater and tailored jeans. “Oh my god, you’re…” _Shut up, he knows who he is._ “I mean, I’m a big admirer of your work, Mr. Gatiss.” 

“Oh, how flattering! You know who I am, and even better, you know how to pronounce my name. Names are very important, you know.”

_Yes, I do. I wrote a whole damn meta on it._

“But please, call me Mark.” He extends an elegant hand, gold ring glinting in the fluorescent light. “And with whom do I have the pleasure of conversing?”

_Fuck, walked right into that one. Can't very well say, "Hi Mr. Gatiss, I'm heimishtheidealhusband, just like the poster from setlock, yeah I pretty much stalk you online!" Because that's not at all creepy._

“Um, my friends call me Heimish. In my writing circles.”

Mark raises an eyebrow as he shakes her hand. "What an interesting nom de plume." Heimish swallows, praying her embarrassment isn't written across her face. "Did you know that Hamish is Scottish for James?"

"Yeah, I'm aware." Shit, that came out snarkier than she intended. Damage control. Her eyes dart around, seeking a distraction. "Uh, speaking of James..." She proffers the stack of books in her arms, and Mark's sharp gaze flits over the titles.

“Ah, some excellent choices.” Only the merest hint of a smirk indicates that he recognizes his own book in the fray. “You know, as much as I love storytelling, fiction on its own is only so fulfilling. Too many people simply stop at the surface. But give me a good meaty analysis to sink my teeth into, peel back the layers and find underlying connections…” He sighs. “There's no greater satisfaction.”

Heimish could feel her pulse quicken and her heart race as Mark described her own purest joy. Yes, he was her gay married ginger dad and she was a hot-to-trot lipstick lesbian, but in that moment she could imagine nothing more arousing than this meeting of minds, the ultimate intellectual stimulation. _Dammit Heim, rein it in. You don't want to be some simpering fan. Get it together!_

"Not to be rude, but what are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know. Dreary skies, that lovely damp that clings like a shroud, phallic iconography in the city skyline--bit of a taste of home. Though it really would benefit from some crumbling gothic castles. I suppose it's not your fault that you haven't any cultural architectural history to speak of. Excellent coffee though, if you go in for that sort of thing." He leans in conspiratorially. "I've always been more of a tea man myself."

"Yeah...that's not really a surprise. But what I meant was, what are you doing _here?_ " She gestures to the bookshelves, and Mark looks around as if just noticing their surroundings.

"Oh, I thought that was obvious. I was told this is the largest repository of queer literature in the Pacific Northwest.”

“I don’t know if that’s true, but it is a pretty decent selection. The general Victorian era stuff like Robb and Cook are a few stacks down, this section’s just focused on the gothic.”

“Excellent, then I’m in the right place.” He inclines his head toward the top shelf. “Did you want a hand with that?”

“Be my guest. I mean, you can take it, if that’s what you were looking for. I’ve already read it.”

“Revisiting some old favourites, eh? I was just browsing, but it caught my eye.” He glances at her armful of treasures. “Are you checking all those out?”

Heimish feels her ears turn pink. “Uh, actually, I don’t go here, so I can’t check anything out. I usually just sit in the reading room until they kick me out.”

“Ah. Well, seeing as we’re in the same boat, and clearly have compatible interests, would you be amiable to a bit of company this afternoon?”

_Holy shit, did Mark fucking Gatiss just ask if we could hang out?!! Don’t panic! Just… Keep Calm, and remember to breathe._

“Sure.” _Sure? Lame._ “It would be an honor.” _What is he, The Queen? Come on, be natural, be cool! Oh who are you kidding, you’ve never been cool. Deep breaths._ Luckily, Mark doesn’t seem to notice her internal struggle for sanity. He slides _Queering the Gothic_ from the shelf and makes a grandiose gesture toward the main aisle.

“Lead the way.”

They pass hours in front of the big picture window overlooking a rain-spattered Seattle, Heimish in her favorite armchair, Mark in the small settee to her left. A comfortable quiet pervades, intermittently interrupted by the odd comment or particular passage.

“Think I could apply to the Red-Headed League?”

He squints at her, assessing. “Hm...depends on the lighting. Maybe in full sunlight you'd have a shot, though that's rather rare in these parts.”

“Hey, we can't all be naturals!”

“Don't hate me for my superior genetics.” She throws a book at him, which he bats away with mock indignation. “Literary abuse!”

It’s absurd, how easy it is, how very quickly Heimish forgets to be nervous--nearly forgets who this man is--and falls into a laidback camaraderie founded on shared passion and compatible temperaments. As the sky slowly darkens and the lamplights blink on, they retreat into their books, secure in their shared silence. 

A loud harrumph of a throat being cleared breaks their reverie, and they turn to see the bedraggled face of an underpaid student librarian.

“We’re closing in five minutes.”

Heimish blinks her eyes blearily. “Right, thanks.” Next to her, Mark gives a bone-cracking stretch followed by a contented sigh. The librarian eyes the stack of books at their feet.

“Anything to check out?”

“Uh...no, we’re good.” Heimish averts her eyes, but Mark grins like a naughty schoolboy. He stands and straightens his sport coat, working out a few more kinks in his neck.

“Shall we?”

They drop the books on the nearest cart and head to the door. Heimish’s heartbeat picks up again as they reach the exit. _This is it._ She extends her hand and he takes it with a warm smile.

“Thank you so much, Mark. This was...unbelievable, actually.”

"No, thank you, Heimish. It was truly an _ideal_ day." With a sly wink, he's off into the night, disappearing under the dark cover of his umbrella unfurled against the steady rain.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a Christmas gift, but here, have a New Year's gift instead! 
> 
> Also, here are [some](http://41.media.tumblr.com/ecfe325e123e29a91110d93ea9595243/tumblr_mqf8ciKBR41r0rmm3o4_r1_500.jpg) [outfit](http://cdn9.staztic.com/app/a/2740/2740137/mark-gatiss-wallpapers-hd-2-3-s-307x512.jpg) [references](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/c1/4b/e8/c14be8daba6b1b280b970ef0ed4e5522.jpg) for Mark in this fic, because why not?
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://iamjohnlocked4life.tumblr.com/) ~ Please say hi, I love to chat!


End file.
